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2011-09-10 - Lessons in Etiquette
The central branch of the New York Public Library is huge. There are so many people in and out of this place on any given day or night that honestly, one would have to be truly weird and freaky or doing something amazing or terrible to stand out and draw attention. And to be honest, Susannah has no desire to draw attention. Not really. As long as she doesn't draw attention, most people will see what she wants them to see: Sam. Sam is a boy. Sam is the boy who lives inside Susannah, trapped there, vying for life and freedom. Sam makes his/her way into the building and through to the periodicals section, and starts checking the online editions of the newspapers, and pulling magazines. Within about fifteen minutes s/he has amassed a whole table full of pieces and is going through them, bit by bit, taking notes into a small laptop. So the only stand out thing ... is that this one person has taken over an entire table by themselves. How rude! With how limited space can be at this hour in the library, that isolation might not last much longer. It begins with a dark, short hair woman looking at magazines at first, picking a few out before she heads for a section on engineering. She heads back to the tables and spots most of them have filled up, except for one that seems to have a boy taking up the entire thing to himself, how odd. Zamin approaches from the left side, her voice sounding quite lacking in emotional weight, "Are these seats taken?" Zamin up close is clearly female, light blue/grey eyes clear as day without make up, her clothes are more aimed to be comfortable over appearances, and she appears to be roughly her actually age. The kid turns his/her head and looks at Zaminthi, giving a little sigh. The articles spread across the table seem to focus entirely on the public response and public policies regarding metahumans trying to be heroes. It's quite the assembly. Up close, of course, no one can really miss that Sam is both really trying to appear and come off male, and that Sam is anything but biologically male. "Enh. Sorry. Hang on, I'll move this stuff." S/he tries to sound gruff and male, and fails. Zamin notices the pattern in the reading materials with a quick glance, that gains a raised eyebrow of interest in the subject matter. It takes a moment for her to figure the boy to be a tom boyish girl, the voice the give away to her, "Thank you, kindly." She shuffles her own small collection of books into her left hand before helping to clear up some space on a corner opposite Sam. Zamin might seem to be staring a little too intently towards Sam at first, placing her books down very carefully and neatly, "I am aware it might be rude to ask this so quickly and I apoligise in advance for the directness, but why the interest in metahumans?" The kid notices the stares and just hunches his/her shoulders defensively. Clearly, s/he knows why someone would stare, and isn't going to confront over it, even if s/he isn't happy about it. S/he does make space for the woman carefully, keeping everything organized. "Sorry, Ma'am." Teenager to a thirty-year-old. Go figure. "School project. I wanted to do a report on public perception and policy regarding heroes." Not 'metahumans' though that is clearly the focus of the materials gathered. "AP History course." Zamin relents on the stare as she turns her gaze towards the books, even Zami can pick up she has made the other person uncomfortable on first impressions, not a good start, "A project, interesting." She takes in a deep breath and chukles, managing to convey the right tone of being called Ma'am as humor, "Zamin would be easier on myself, madam just reminds me I am old." Her gaze quickly scans over her current companies topics, then back to Sam. "Sorry, Ma -- Miss Zamin." Sounds like a last name to Sam, so Sam uses it as such. "You're younger than my Mom, so not old. Just older than me. Makes you an 'elder' to be respected." Or so s/he was raised, and will act accordingly. Once Sam gets things gathered up to closer to a quarter of the table space instead of all of it, Sam sits back down and continues putting in notes to the small laptop. "I'm Sam, by the way." It would be impolite not to return the favor. Zamin bows her head slightly, "Oh, so Madam was meant as a respectful title towards an older female. That sounds understandable." She nods her head a few times and draws open a magazine of her own, specifcally the cross word section which sadly somebody has solved in ink, "An interest to meet you Sam." Zamin grrs softly to herself, flipping the pages to something less puzzly, "The general perception I see and hear are mixed. Both sides do have genuine concerns of the other." "Yes'm. It's short for the French mademoiselle." Clearly an educated kid, this Sam. But Zamin's wording choice seems to bewilder Sam a bit. "Uhm ... interesting to meet you too, Miss Zamin. Thanks." S/he considers Zamin's words, then responds, "I think the key to the problem is that anyone views there as being sides at all. Heroes are of the people, trying to help and protect the people. They are not separate from them. If they were, they wouldn't care." Zamin's words can't do what she truely means justice, but she is trying to find the correct terms to use while speaking, "A sad fact that the division does exist, I agree there is a place and purpose for those that wish to help others." She brings her hands up under her chin, thinking before she speaks, "They are people in every respect of the word, like myself and you, but they set a bad example in breaking laws to do so." Sam regards Zamin quietly for a while, with great intensity. But it takes a while before s/he puts anything s/he's thinking into words. "I realize I'm a kid, Mss. Zamin. But our Founding Fathers said that legislating morality was a fool's errand, and I agree with them. And I consider any law that tries to legislate that those with the desire to help should not be allowed to help, and should instead be considered criminal, to be tantamount to insanity. Our greatest leaders have always held that one does what one must do, the laws be damned, and pay the price later if one must." Civil disobedience, with powers. "I consider it an unjust law. And I do not believe that there can /be/ a bad example of heroism." Zamin shows that she is taking in what Sam says, not disguarding it off hand due to his/her age. She can't help but have a little smile in the corner of her lips as she listens, the art of discussion not dead, "It is a slippery slope to try make laws on morality. A concept so varied and fluid, that it changes over time, for the better or worse." Zamin nods once to Sam, glad this one has the fortitute to say she disagrees with the way things are, "I consider it a law made out of reponse to a public outcry, an attempt to minimalize liability and appease." "In short, it's a poor law, lacking foresight and wisdom." Ouch. Scathing condemnation from someone who wasn't even a glimmer in anyone's eye when this law was put into effect. Sam shrugs. "Allowing anyone to view there to be any difference between these people, these heroes, and the rest of humanity is precisely what allows things like the massacre in Westchester to happen. It's reprehensible, and needs to be stopped. If I see a fire, and I run to help those trapped inside, I am hailed as a hero, praised and welcomed. But if I have the power to help /more/, to save more lives, perhaps even put out the fire, I am comdemned as a vigilante, a criminal, hunted and caged. That's wrong. Everyone in the world should have learned with Hitler that appeasement is idiocy." OK. The discussion is officially dead. After someone invokes Hitler, what more is there to say? That is a strong way to end it without a doubt, even Zamin has a little surprise on the face when that name is brought up, "That was low to invoke that name, does not do yourself the proper credit, Sam." She rubs her forehead as she tries to find something less emotionally charged to speak of, blue eyes glancing over a article about some person surviving somewhere, Zamin's not paying it much attention, "You had valid concerns and points prior to it." Her eyes look up from her magazine. "I'll grant you, it's harsh to bring it up, but it's the most clear-cut example I know of that speaks to the inadvisability of appeasement as a doctrine of choice." Sam offers. OK. Very well-spoken kid, definitely. S/he does offer a shy little smile before saying, "I do apologize, though. It was rather shocking to bring up without warning. That's rude." Imperfect, but polite. "Thanks, though, Miss Zamin. That was nice of you to say."